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A new year is a nursling, a babe of time, a prophecy and promise clad in white raiment, kissed–and encumbered with greetings–redolent with grief and gratitude.

    An old year is time’s adult, and 1893 was a distinguished character, notable for good and evil.  Time past and time present, both, may pain us, but time improved is eloquent in God’s praise.  For due refreshment garner the memory of 1894; for if wiser by reason of its large lessons, and records deeply engraven, great is the value thereof.

             Pass on, returnless year!

     The path behind thee is with glory crowned;

     This spot whereon thou troddest was holy ground;

             Pass proudly to thy bier!  (Eddy, Mary Baker, Pulpit and Press, 1:4-17)


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